


Night

by missdibley



Series: The Red Nose Diaries [42]
Category: British Actor RPF, Tom Hiddleston - Fandom
Genre: Cunnilingus, F/M, Fellatio, Finger Fucking, Fingering, Oral Sex, Sex With an Ex, Vaginal Fingering, intercourse, lie back and think of carmen, the red nose diaries, unprotected intercourse
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-08-14
Updated: 2016-09-08
Packaged: 2018-08-08 14:49:05
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 10,085
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7762087
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/missdibley/pseuds/missdibley
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A few restless nights for Tom and Carmen two months after they parted.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Pacific Standard Time

**Author's Note:**

> This work is not beta'd.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Emmy nominee Tom takes time off from work in New Zealand to fly to Los Angeles for some interviews and appearances to promote "The Night Manager" the weekend before voting begins.

> _“Well… guess he won't need me anymore. What does an actor want with a conscience anyway?”  
>  _ Jiminy Cricket, Pinocchio

* * *

It wasn’t the journalist’s fault that the audio for their online chat was being fussy. For having just slipped back into social media, first with a selfie dressed as Loki posted to Instagram, now with this Facebook Live interview for the Los Angeles Times, Tom thought he was doing alright.

He always did well when it came to work. And if the promotion of his work, which happened to include campaigning for his Emmy nominated role in “The Night Manager”, should call for playing with filters and face-swapping on Snapchat as well, who was he to say no?

The last time he had spoken to Jenelle was back in the spring, weeks into relentless promotion for _I Saw The Light_ , _High-Rise,_ and “The Night Manager”. It was a rare spot of fun in endless interviews and appearances and screenings and dinners and that one time he did the weather report for morning television in Chicago. Smiling and chatting and mugging and occasionally flirting. So many people, people with names and jobs and influence, all of it culminating in a gala. The gala. That gala.

And then everything changed.

In the months that followed, it wasn’t easy to find those in the mainstream press who covered these developments without ridicule, cynicism, or outright hostility. He knew that sympathy would not be easy to come by. He reckoned he had little right to expect it at all. But still. It had been a long summer.

Truth be told, he liked this woman. She was funny, charming, erudite. Dark hair, and lively eyes. A friendly face with a sympathetic (but still professional) ear.

But it wasn’t fair.

It wasn’t fair because, of all the writers the Times could have picked to talk to him, why did they have to pick the one who reminded him of Carmen?

_[“You made that sound for her.”](http://archiveofourown.org/works/6524635/chapters/14948509) _

_“Who her? What her?”_

_“The girl, that gorgeous buxom absolutely ripe morsel who conducted the SAG-AFTRA interview. In the video I saw, I heard you.”_

_“What sound?”_

_“You were laughing at some devastatingly clever thing she said, and it was like this sort of huff. Your totally unconscious nerdy Tom sound. I love that sound.”_

_“Well, I couldn’t help it. It was a good talk, we had a good time.”_

_“Well, I’m actually not cross. You have my permission to sleep with her if the occasion presents itself.”_

_“What makes you think it hasn’t already?”_

_“You jerk!”_

_“Ooh, do that again!”_

“Tom?” The interview now over and the camera turned off, she peered at him with a tentative smile on her face.

“What?” He stammered as he emerged from his reverie. “Oh, yes. Sorry, just sort of…”

“I imagine you must still be jet lagged from the flight.”

“Jet lag?” Tom glanced down at his hands, then flexed his fingers. He even wiggled his toes. “Oh, yes. I’ve been, erm, flying quite a bit lately.” He looked back up again into her dark eyes ( _so much like hers_ ) then pasted a grin on his face. “But no matter. Is there anything else I can answer?”

She shook her head. “Good luck. I can show you out, if you like.”

Tom nodded, stifled a yawn, then wondered what was next on the agenda.

* * *

While he had been careful about what he said, in public, on the record, about his summer in the spotlight, Tom couldn’t help but let his brain run wild with thoughts and theories. He hadn’t spoken to Carmen since that day on the telephone. Already gone because he was too much of a coward to try to explain in person, Tom could only imagine the look on Carmen’s face based on the pain he heard in her voice.

Since then, he hadn’t been alone much, surrounded as he was by girl and her people. Any look at his phone that was more than a cursory glance, or the reach of his hands for his laptop, and all of a sudden there was so much interest in who he was texting or what he was trying to look up. She could tell him anything he needed to know. She had all the answers. All he had to do was ask.

Alone in his hotel room, the night before he had to back to Australia and lose himself in Loki once again, Tom fiddled with his phone. He tossed it aside for his laptop, telling himself he was only going to check his email, write to his mother, then get to sleep. And he very nearly did, until he saw the message from his father.

> From: James Hiddleston  
>  To: Tom Hiddleston  
>  Subject: press release from her promotion
> 
> In case The English Dish didn’t print the whole statement, here it is from The London Times.
> 
> _Carmen DiGregorio, Senior Digital Producer for PACE Futures U.K., has been named Vice President for Digital Strategy and Content for PACE U.K. In this newly created role, DiGregorio will lead the effort to develop, deliver, and manage all media and content for_ [ _http://pacecommodities.co.uk_ ](http://pacecommodities.co.uk/) _as well as for other digital and social media platforms._
> 
> Take care of yourself,  
>  Dad

Startled, Tom stared at the screen, reading the message several times until he nearly had it committed to memory. He racked his brain. Had she told him about this before? Did he forget, or was it meant to be a surprise? He was so proud of her.

“Button,” he muttered to himself. “You did good.”

“Yeah? Did you say something?”

Startled, Tom looked up from the computer screen to see Carmen emerging from the en-suite, hair wet and combed. The blue t-shirt of his that she wore, sheerer every time he saw her in it, barely reached past her hips. Crawling into bed, she kissed his shoulder then peered up at him. When she saw the look of confusion on his face, she reached up and touched his cheek.

“You okay, baby?” Carmen smiled. “You look like you’ve just seen a ghost.”

Tom’s mouth was dry. He couldn’t speak, he could only look at her. Take in the hair that was just beginning to form curls as it dried. Squint in the dim light and he could make out the freckles on the bridge of her nose. Sniff the minty scent of her toothpaste when he leaned in to kiss her.

Were her lips always this soft? Had her kisses ever been so sweet? His eyes were closed, so the touch of her fingertips trailing along his jaw surprised him. Thrilled him. Before he could deepen the kiss, tease her lips apart with his tongue, she broke it. Pressing her forehead against his, she laughed softly.

“What?” Tom murmured.

“Feels like somebody is out of practice, my dear,” replied Carmen.

“Excuse me?” Tom’s protest was good natured. He sat back and opened his eyes, just in time for Carmen to take the laptop away from him. Tom watched her turn away, just for a moment, as she placed the computer on the nightstand. As soon as she was facing him again, he wrapped his arms around her. Tom felt himself relax when she hugged him back. When she lay back on the bed, he moved to lie on his side next to her.

“I missed you,” whispered Tom.

Carmen smirked up at the ceiling. “How can you miss me when you’ve been so busy faffing about with what’s her name?”

“Car, please…”

“Walking on the beach. Going to the Colosseum. Frolicking in the ocean.” Carmen counted on her fingers. “I liked that tank top, by the way. It really brought out the pastiness of your skin.”

Tom grabbed her hand. “Come on, Carmen.”

She pulled her hand away so she could press it into his chest. “I mean, I couldn’t even get you to wear a t-shirt from _my_ alma mater!”

Tom started his rebuttal but she stopped him by covering his mouth with her hands.

“You never could resist a damsel in distress.” She rolled her eyes. “Captain Save-A-Ho…”

Despite himself, Tom laughed then removed her hands from his mouth. “Very good, Carmen. But that’s not fair…”

Carmen snorted. “No, it isn’t fair. None of this is.” She threw her hands up. “I should have known. You have this pattern, don’t you? Girl’s having problems with her boyfriend, maybe even her fiance.” She looked at him knowingly. “It’s so easy for you, isn’t it? Flash your blue eyes at them, tell them you know what they’re going through…”

“No,” said Tom, his voice tight. “You’re wrong. That’s not the way it…”

“If their man can’t do it anymore, then maybe you can. Thomas William Hiddleston, Emmy nominee…” Carmen laughed to herself. “Emmy nominee! Rebound Jesus!”

“Enough!”

Something felt tight in Tom’s chest. He began to flush all over his body, a heat that he felt inside most acutely as a hard knot in his stomach. He stared at Carmen, who looked at him with such contempt that he almost didn’t recognize her.

But that was ridiculous. Who else could she be but Carmen?

Nobody talked to him like she did. Looked at him like she did.

Fought him like she did.

Fucked him like she did.

Before she could let loose again, Tom pushed himself off the bed so he could kneel on the floor at her feet. He grabbed the backs of her knees then pulled, hard, so Carmen slid down towards him. Before he could shove her legs apart roughly, he lost his grip and she used the opportunity to kick at him.

“Bitch!” Tom avoided the strike, grabbing her ankle and digging his nails into the flesh.

“Ow! Fuck you, Tom!” Carmen tried to sit up but he pulled her again, far enough that her t-shirt slid up to reveal her naked body underneath. Her legs now spread before him, he sneered, maintaining eye contact as he pressed the flat of his tongue against her slit and licked, slowly but firmly, up and down.

Carmen’s lip trembled, but she said nothing as she glared at him. Her eyes flashed, even as they filled with tears. Even as they took in the sight of him, a man possessed, as he worshiped her with his tongue. When he flicked at her clit, torturing it with feather light touches, she grit her teeth. She was in agony, completely at the mercy of the man who had left her. A man who had broken her and now, his eyes closed just as his lips pursed around that bundle of nerves, he was determined to put her back together. She fell back onto the bed, and surrendered.

“Oh god, Button,” moaned Tom as he lifted his head. Cheeks and chin already damp with her juices, he looked up at her drunkenly. “Fuck.” He resumed his ministrations, this time pushing his tongue into her as two fingers on his left hand were employed to now gently stroke her clit.

He had no more words. Tom simply moaned as he continued to lick and suck, dizzy now too on the heated scent of her sex. Her thighs closed around him, clenching tighter and tighter when he brought his right hand up along her inner thigh, trailing his fingers along the soft flesh until they began to tease her cunt along with his tongue.

And then they were inside her, pumping away. And still he sucked and licked and caressed, his tongue tracing paths on her skin for his hands to follow. When her hips bucked, he laughed. He wasn’t thrown off. He wasn’t letting go. His mouth on her clit, lips sucking while his tongue flicked from within. She smelled good. She tasted perfect. Her own hands grabbed at him, and even the sharp pains brought by the pulling made him want her more.

He couldn’t get enough. It was worth the agony of these months without her. The pain he felt for having left was erased in this moment by the taste and the feeling of her as she writhed for him. He nipped at her clit lightly with his teeth, flicked at it with tongue, then sucked one more time to soothe.

The sound of her coming apart seemed to echo. His own name, screamed from her lips, spoke to the power of the ecstasy that he had given her. He kept his tongue on her, teasing gently even as she began to sob. He felt her legs shaking underneath his hands, which he kept firmly in place on her thighs until she found her voice and the words to speak.

“Tom.” She spoke in a raw whisper. “Come up.”

Tom wiped his mouth on the back of his hand, then did as he was told. When he was lying next to her, he pulled Carmen over so she could snuggle into him.

“Are you alright?” Tom asked.

Carmen nodded. “Yeah.”

Tom kissed the top of her head, inhaling the traces of soap on her skin. “Are you… are you…?”

She looked up at him. “Am I what?”

Tom bit his lip. “Are you… real? Are you real?”

Carmen shook her head. “I’m sorry, baby, but no. I’m not.”

Before Tom could kiss her, convinced that kissing her would make her stay, the house phone rang. It’s piercing tone shook him out of his state, out of the sleep he had fallen into while mindlessly browsing the internet. His laptop was open on the bed next to him. A light shone from within the en-suite, but nobody was there. Certainly not Carmen.

Tom lay there, slowly coming back to wakefulness. Out of that painful but beautiful dream. His cock was becoming less hard, and there was cum on his inner thighs. The display on his phone told him it was just past midnight. Not too late for a hot shower to clean himself up, relax him, and help him get ready for what he hoped was a night of dreamless sleep.


	2. British Summer Time

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> On a hot, steamy night in London, Carmen believes she is ready to move on from Tom.

_I have lain awake through the longest hours_  
_Wondering whether to cry or scream,_  
_You can take my heart_  
_It was always yours,_  
_But give me back my dreams_  
Stephen Merritt, “Give Me Back My Dreams”

* * *

The couple dawdled on the way back to her place, a little half cottage in a modest neighborhood south of the Thames. She still felt pleasantly warm after early evening drinks at her local, where he had helped her choose the best Scotch to drink while they shared an order of curry chips.

“Ye cannae be drinkin’ Irish whisky on my watch, Carmen.” Richard’s reproach was gentle. He squeezed her hand. “Not while I live and breathe as a true son of Scotland.”

“I know, but the look on your face when I asked for a Redbreast.” Carmen bit her lip, but a giggle managed to escape from her lips.

“Ye’ll pay fer that, lassie.” He wiggled his eyebrows when she looked up at him.

“Oh really? How am I gonna do that?” A coy smile played on Carmen’s lips, a smile which widened when Richard grinned at her.

“Dinner,” he whispered. “Saturday night. Anywhere ye like.”

“Oh?” Carmen arched an eyebrow at him. “Anywhere?”

Richard nodded, then leaned in. “Anywhere,” he repeated before brushing his lips against hers.

* * *

Carmen had been resisting romance. Dating held no interest. She was far too busy. Newly promoted to a senior management position at work, her responsibilities (and her salary) had increased by multitudes. The flat still needed to be furnished, and, having come from Chicago with the reputation as a super volunteer, the board of the alumni club was eager to put Carmen to work planning events and soliciting donations. There was no time in her life for men.

Until, of course, she accidentally flashed a guy at [The Princess of Shoreditch](http://www.theprincessofshoreditch.com/).

It had been a quiet Thursday evening, and the alumni club dinner up in the second floor dining room was coming to an end. The day had started out hot, so the black cotton dress that buttoned up the front was the perfect choice to take her from the office to supper. But by the time Carmen had left work, a cool rain had begun to fall over the city. She layered a pashmina over her shoulders, and found an unopened packet of stockings in her desk to cover her bare legs. It was only when she unrolled them that she discovered that they were thighhighs. Putting them on, she hoped the skirt, which just reached the tops of her knees, would stay put. And it did.

Until Carmen started walking down the restaurants wrought iron staircase after supper. A young man at the bottom of the stairs, waiting for his table to be, looked up just in time to see three buttons pop open on Carmen’s dress. Treated to the sight of her soft thighs and the lacy tops of her stockings, he forgot what he was doing and spilled a little beer on the front of his shirt.

“Fuck!” She stumbled on the last step, but managed to avoid falling by grabbing the railing.

“Are ye alright, love?” The man asked. He put a hand on her shoulder, at which point she looked up.

His eyes were very blue. He had thick brown hair, and a soft beard that concealed how pink his cheeks were as he blushed under her gaze. He was tall and broad shouldered, but didn’t loom over her awkwardly. He looked kind.

Carmen checked her skirt, smoothing it down before she returned his gaze. “Yeah, I’m okay.” She gave him a tiny smirk. “Sorry about the, ah, the little show. New dress. Buttons have a mind of their own.”

“Yes. Don’t they just?” Before he could think of something else to say, her phone chirped from within her purse. Carmen dug it out and peered at the display.

“Ah, my Uber is here.” She looked out the window, where she saw a Prius pulling up to the curb. Before she could make a quick (and only slightly awkward) exit, he tapped her shoulder.

“Can I call ye sometime? Or ye could call me?”

Carmen’s eyebrows shot up. “Whatever for?”

“So I can take ye out.”

She looked at the pint in his hand. “Is that your beer talking?”

“No!” The man said, pretending to take offense.

Carmen’s eyes grew wide. “Is this because you saw my thighs?”

“I won’t say it was _just_ because I saw them, but I cannae deny they played a part.” His eyes crinkled when he smiled at her.

“Oh please!” Carmen scoffed, but found herself smiling anyway.

He nodded at the door. “I’ll walk ye to yer car.”

“Why should I let you walk me to the car?”

“So ye can take my phone number when I do.”

“Why would I want to let a perfect stranger walk me to my car? Why should I get your number?”

“It’s the least ye can do fer me.”

“Are you saying I owe you something? What did I do to deserve this?”

He took her hand in his. “Yer just the prettiest girl I’ve ever seen.”

“I…” Carmen faltered. She didn’t know what to say. There was no clever retort to his observation, even if it was a line. When she shook her head, Richard nodded.

“Aye,” he said softly. “You are.”

Carmen’s phone buzzed again. Taking a deep breath, she pressed it into his right hand, then slipped her hand into the crook of his left arm. It was a short walk in the rain, but by the time Richard had opened the car door and settled her within, his name and number were saved on her phone. He placed it gently in her hand.

“Richard Rankin.” She looked up from the screen. “Nice to meet you, Richard.”

“Likewise, Miss…” Richard leaned in a bit, so he could watch her lips move as she spoke.

“Carmen,” she murmured. “It’s Carmen.”

* * *

Unlike the night they met a few weeks before, this Sunday evening was hot and humid. When they reached Carmen’s front door, Richard slipped one hand to the nape of her neck, and the other to the small of her back. Hot as it was, she did not resist when he pulled her into him for a good night kiss.

Coincidentally, she was wearing the same black dress with the button-up skirt. This time, when those buttons came undone as Richard and Carmen got closer and began to move against each other, she didn’t care. His hands on her body, his soft lips now murmuring in her ear — it was all too delicious. When she reached up and tugged on his hair, he growled.

“Are ye sure ye cannae come up to Glasgow with me?” Richard nuzzled her cheek, smiling when he heard her soft laughter as his beard tickled her soft skin.

“What would I do in Glasgow while you’re rehearsing?” Carmen nipped at his jaw.

“Drink proper Scotch.” Richard hugged her. “Work on yer brogue.”

“Oh?” Carmen replied innocently. “Why would I need to—”

Richard cut her off with another kiss, this one less gentle as he slowly but firmly teased her lips apart with his own. His tongue flicked at hers, exploring her warm and wet mouth. She whimpered, quietly at first and then a bit louder when his hands found their way to her ass.

“Carmen…” Richard moaned. “Tell me again. Why did I agree to get up at three in the morning to drive to Glasgow instead of flying? That’s hours that I’m going to be on the road, dodging lorries and camper vans. Hours that should be spent…”

“In my bed,” whispered Carmen. “Teaching me the wicked ways of your infernal Scottish tongue.”

“Fuck,” Richard hissed.

“Fuck indeed,” replied Carmen softly.

They took a moment, then another, letting their kisses slow as they reluctantly pulled away from each other. Richard took her hands in his, then lifted them to his lips.

“Good night, Richard,” Carmen murmured.

“Good night,” he echoed. “Saturday.”

“Yeah,” she breathed. “Saturday.”

Carmen watched Richard walk backwards down the path, a cheesy grin pasted on his face. She waved her fingers at him until he rounded the hedge and was on his way back to the tube. Fumbling with her key, Carmen felt dizzy from the heat and the snogging as she let herself in.

Once the door was shut behind her, she peeled off her dress before crossing the small apartment to the bathroom so she could turn on the shower. Frock now in her laundry basket, Carmen remembered the new bottle of fancy bath bubbles sitting on the kitchen counter. She decided to turn on the light near the bookcase in her living room on the way back. When she did, she froze.

For there on her couch was Tom, dressed casually in a slate gray button-down shirt, blue trousers, and gray suede ankle boots. He got to his feet and walked over to Carmen, who didn’t look at him. When he tried to meet her gaze, she flinched before pushing past him back into her bedroom.

Tom did not follow her in, but resumed his spot on the couch. When she reappeared, wrapped tight in a thin robe, he scooted back towards one end while she took her place opposite. They looked at each other for a moment, silently taking stock of what in their appearances had changed, and what had not. When Carmen cast her eyes down, Tom cleared his throat to speak.

“You’ve lost weight, Button.”

Carmen looked at him sharply. “Don’t call me that.”

Tom blanched, then nodded in understanding. “Of course. Sorry.”

“What do you want, Tom?”

“I wanted to see you.”

“So you’ve seen me.”

“I wanted to apologize.”

“You already tried that.”

“When…”

“Well, the day it ended, first of all,” said Carmen tartly. She squinted up at the ceiling. “The flowers you sent congratulating me on my promotion.”

“I’m sorry those were late…”

“And then there was last week, when your assistant sent back [my book](http://archiveofourown.org/works/7260727). Thanks for getting it from Moira.” Carmen shrugged. “You could have just left it there.”

“But it had your notes, Car.”

“So?” She rolled her eyes. “Who cares?”

“It was your personal book, with your thoughts,” Tom insisted.

“Right,” said Carmen. “Thoughts. Feelings. Completely fucking useless.”

“But they’re not…” Tom faltered. He felt inadequate, powerless but he tried again. “I wanted to tell you…”

“Tom!” Carmen cried. “What is there left to say? You said it all. Your feelings changed…”

“They didn’t change! I feel the same!” Tom protested. “I still love you!”

“But it wasn’t enough. I wasn’t enough. Not anymore! I couldn’t get you Bond, boost you up to the top like you wanted. Like you deserved.” Carmen blinked at him. “I don’t know what happened in New York, before you came home. But I am telling you, you came back different!”

“But I didn’t!” Tom slid down to the floor, on his knees in front of her. “I’m still Tom. Your Tom. [ Tom Tom, not Hollywood Tom. ](http://archiveofourown.org/works/6917914)”

A bitter laugh escaped from Carmen’s lips. “I don’t believe you.”

“Carmen!” Tom pleaded. “You’ve got to. I just need you to understand that this is part of something bigger, and if you could just trust me…”

“Trust you? Are fucking kidding me?! When I was wrong about who I thought you were? When I was completely in denial about the kind of man you are? Not just ambitious but ruthless? Not eager but desperate?”

“That is completely unfair!” Tom was on the verge of sobbing, he was so frustrated, but he wasn’t about to give up.

“It is! It is utterly unfair! You…” Carmen shut her eyes tight. “Your love to me… it was.. when I had it? It was a gift, you know. It’s just…” She bowed her head. “How was I to know it was a gift I was never meant to keep?”

Tom’s shoulder slumped and his head fell forward. Resting for a moment, cheek nestled against the soft velour cushion. He thought he felt Carmen’s fingers flutter over his hair but when he looked up, Tom saw that her hands were crossed protectively over her chest.

“Am I…? Do you really?” Tom sighed. “Do you really hate me so much?”

“Tom.” Carmen’s bottom lip trembled. “I don’t hate you.”

“You don’t?” Tom dared to let a small smile curl his lips.

“No,” admitted Carmen. “I don’t. But all of this… what’s going on with you, the fact that you’re here in my house unannounced like it wasn’t two months ago that you left me? I think… it’s just… ” She looked into Tom’s eyes, then choked back a quiet sob. “You don’t get it.”

“What?” Tom whispered. “Tell me.”

“I don’t hate you, Tom.” Carmen said quietly. “I’m afraid of you.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I don't know if Richard Rankin has a girlfriend or a wife or anything, but I'm going to assume he does not for the purpose of this and any works of mine in which he may appear.


	3. Australian Eastern Standard Time

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Carmen and Tom's reunion continues, as he tries to explain himself and she humors it as best she can.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I promise the next (and last) chapter will have actual smut.

_Talk to me, and watch me crumble_  
 _You will see me come undone_  
 _Faithfully I will look over_  
 _There I'll find what you've become_  
Disclosure, “Help Me Lose My Mind”

* * *

_“I’m afraid of you.”_

The moment he heard Carmen say those words to him, Tom felt his body go slack. There went his hope, however tiny and undeserved, that he might be able to explain to her what it was that he was trying to accomplish in the months since they had parted. There too went the possibility, however minute and improbable, that she might ever forgive him.

The silence between them now in her little apartment was fraught. Curled up at the end of her couch, peering at him with her wide, dark eyes, Carmen looked like she wanted to say something else. Instead, she bit her bottom lip and waited for him to respond.

“What did you mean by…?” Tom began. “You’re afraid of me?”

“Never mind. Forget I said it. I got carried away…”

“No,” Tom said quietly. “Please. Tell me.”

“Well, it’s just… it was my nightmare. Like I said that day, [ when we had lunch with your sister and that fawning neighbor of hers ](http://archiveofourown.org/works/6917914), right after you got back from New York.”

“Right. I came back to _you_ , Carmen.”

“And then you turned right around and left me for her! Genuine affection or not, it’s not for me to decide. By then you had already heeded the call. Saw what was possible if only you’d…” Carmen trailed off.

“Sell out?” Tom asked, sounding more wounded than he intended.

“Played the game properly. For real. The big leagues. You know I like him. I think he’s good at what he does but.” She shook her head. “Luke on his own, or even with Marvel and AMC PR helping, he was never going to get you that kind of exposure. This kind of press costs a fortune.”

“But it was never about that, Carmen,” said Tom stubbornly.

“Maybe not _just_ about that,” she ventured. “But you can’t deny the new interest in your, ah, comings and goings.” Carmen got to her feet, then walked in the direction of her bathroom. Tom followed her, standing just outside. He watched her turn on the shower, waiting for her to nod at the toilet where, once he put down the lid, he took a seat. Tom averted his eyes when she removed her robe and got in.

“New love, new interest, new fans.” Carmen mused. She stuck her head out for a moment. “But no new job?”

“No,” said Tom testily. “Not yet.”

“Oh, I’m quite sure something will just, you know, materialize. You’re always up to something, love.” Carmen stuck her head back under the spray and resumed showering.

Tom tried not to let his irritation show. And he _was_ irritated.

Carmen’s robe slipping off the hook where it had been hung haphazardly caught his attention. When he leaned over to retrieve it, Tom saw that something had fallen out of the pocket.

Hanging up the robe first, he snatched the thing off the floor and examined it, turning it over slowly in his hands. Tom didn’t hear Carmen finishing, so he was surprised to find standing in front of him, tying the robe around herself and gently drying her hair with a towel.

Tom held it up. “What’s this?”

Carmen rolled her eyes. “You know what that is. Sure, we never used one but…”

“Why did you have a condom in your robe pocket?”

“I was emptying my purse, getting ready to shower when all of a sudden you show up, sitting on my couch like that wasn’t completely a bizarre…”

“Why did you have it in the first place?” Tom tried not to grit his teeth when she ignored him in favor of spritzing leave-in conditioner on her damp hair. “Carmen!”

“Um, I had it because…” Carmen began to comb her hair. “I thought I might have sex tonight? Or maybe I’d befriend some lucky girl or guy who’d need it before they went scampering off to the toilets with someone they’d picked up? Why else would I have one?”

“Who is he?” Tom felt his cheeks get hot. “Who is the condom for?”

“What’s it to you? We’re not even together!”

“But you don’t deny there is somebody?” Tom frowned when Carmen studiously avoided his gaze, concentrating on the rich lotion she was smoothing onto her legs and feet. “Carmen!”

She showed him her back, then opened the front of her robe to apply cream to her belly, hips, and thighs. Her hands didn’t linger too long over her breasts, but they didn’t need to in order for her to know that her nipples were hard. _It’s just the cold air, because stupid Tom left the bathroom door open._ But even in her own head, Carmen sounded less than convincing.

* * *

Carmen thought Tom would be gone by the time she had gotten dressed. But there he sat in her living room, scowling at the tell-tale prophylactic in his hands.

“What are you still doing here? Don’t you have some place to be?” She joined Tom on the couch, sitting cross-legged and facing him.

“I could have asked the same thing of you a few nights ago, when you turned up in my hotel room in Los Angeles!” Tom retorted.

“What?!”

“I was dreaming of you.” Tom was sullen. “Again.”

Carmen cackled, clapping her hands like a child. “Really? Dreaming of me?” She looked thoughtful. “Is this like a punishment or something? Karma and all that?”

“Dunno, but every night you turn up, we bicker like we always did, and then, well…” Despite himself, Tom blushed.

“Oh dear,” Carmen tutted. “You’re with her but you’re still dreaming of me? Poor girl!”

“You leave her out of it,” Tom seethed.

“Or what?” Carmen looked incredulous. “You’ll leave me? Again?” She shrugged. “You’ve already done it in real life. You may as well do it in your subconscious.”

“What makes you think this is my subconscious! I didn’t make this happen. I wasn’t doing anything, just lying my bed in first class on a plane back to Brisbane, and then all of sudden instead of flight attendants looming over me with Champagne I’m here in your apartment wondering who the FUCK that fucking Scotsman was who practically fucked you on your doorstep!”

When Tom finished, he found that he had gotten to his feet. He was rigid, clutching the unwrapped condom in his hand so tight the edge of the plastic wrapper scratched his palm. He released the offending packet, which fell next to Carmen on the couch.

“I don’t need it,” she replied coolly. “But if you do…” She turned up to Tom just in time to see his eyes narrow.

“No. Thank. You.” Tom took a deep breath, then another.

“Oh.” Carmen pushed her lip out at him. “Not getting any? Tsk tsk. I should have known. You know how cranky you get when you’re not getting any.”

“I never said I wasn’t getting any!” Tom yelled.

“So now you’re going to tell me all about it?” Carmen feigned shock, raising her hand to her chest.

“Carmen…” Tom hissed.

“I mean, all that hand-holding, the closed mouth kissing.” She smirked at him. “When you’re doing it, do you tell yourself ‘Lie back and think of the Emmy’ before or after you turn out the lights?”

“Enough!” Tom’s shoulders felt stiff, and his jaw was clenched. He took a slow breath, and then another, focusing on Carmen’s face when he did. Her face was flushed, a dark rosy red that crept down her neck and onto her chest, exposed as it was by the simple sundress she had put on. One of her straps slipped, revealing the thin strip of light blue lace of her bra.

He pounced, leaping forward just a beat behind as Carmen escaped his reach. Falling awkwardly on her knees, she pushed herself up from the floor and made a break for the bedroom. Before she could reach it, Tom caught up and wrapped his arms around her from behind.

Carmen gasped, but did not struggle against him. She was reminded of how much she loved standing so close to him, the weight of his arms as they encircled her.

Tom stilled, taking a moment to enjoy the feeling of her body against his. She was too warm and soft, and the scent of her shampoo and her skin overwhelmed him. A combination of the heat, the tension between them, and the desire to simply take her made him dizzy.

Carmen freed herself but did not leave, instead stepping out of his arms then turning so she could look up at him. Tom had a dreamy expression on his face, and his eyes were clouded. Trapped in some kind of reverie, it was as though he were under a spell.

Counting to three, she raised her right hand and slapped him, hard, across the cheek.

Before she could take another breath, Tom grabbed Carmen and kissed her. He kept her anchored to him, one hand grasping the back of her neck while the other tightly held onto her hip. Tom adjusted himself when she freed her arms so she could hug him back.

He had missed this. Not just the touching and the kissing, the fighting and the pugnacious flirting, but being there. Being with her. Her lips were too tender, with a warm and wet mouth for exploring with his supple tongue. There was no time to wonder if he was forgiven, not when her hands were tugging at his clothes.

Stumbling backwards to her bedroom, the look on Carmen’s face was one of pure glee as she undid Tom’s fly. He could only grin when, sitting at the foot of her bed, she looked up with a wicked smile.

Carmen placed her hand gently between his legs, resting just so on the trousers that were on the verge of falling off him. She licked her lips.

“What would you like?”

Tom’s mind reeled. His mouth was dry. Here were the eyes, the lips, the hands, the breasts, the cunt that he had dreamt of all summer. The mind and the heart, which he had broken. Before he could hesitate, pull himself away from the person he loved the most, hurt the most, she pulled him down on top of her.

Eyes shut tight, Tom nuzzled the hollow of her throat. For the first time in a long while, he felt untroubled and unencumbered. There were no phones ringing or cameras flashing, planes taking off or cars arriving to pick him up. There was no sound but her sighs, and his moans. Nothing but her. Nothing but him. Nothing but them.

She pressed her lips to his forehead. The kiss was soft and sweet, and was soon followed by more of the same, Carmen’s lips pursed as they kissed down to where her hands, cupping his face, brought lips to hers. She brushed her fingers along his jaw as she sucked on his bottom lip, then tugged on the scant curls at the nape of his neck when she pushed her tongue further into his mouth.

“Button…” Tom breathed but she merely smiled, her lips brushing his cheek. When she hugged him tight, he felt relief.

Then all of a sudden, she was tickling him around his neck, taking advantage of his vulnerability to push him onto his back. Pulling him up, Carmen sat in his lap and looked at him. Tom watched her watch him, wondering what she was thinking as her dark eyes took in his hair, the angle at which his ears stuck out, the curve of his delicate lips.

When her eyes met his, she gasped. Before Tom could ask her if she was alright, Carmen hiccuped. He couldn’t help but laugh.

“Asshole,” she muttered. “Can’t help it.”

“Darling Carmen,” Tom said, settling his arms around her. “What is it?”

“It’s just… you have that look. The one, from when we met. That day in the library.”

Tom nodded, pressing his forehead to hers. “I remember. You were so rude…”

“And you were so pompous!” Carmen finished. She kissed the tip of his nose.

“So what was the look, then?” Tom pressed his cheek to hers.

“A sort of curiosity, it seemed to me.” She spoke in a hush. “Wonder, but also recognition. Like you knew me, and I knew you. And now.” She kissed the shell of his ear. “It’s like that. You’re like that. You’re the Tom I still know. The Tom I still miss.”

She sat back and peered at him again.

“The Tom I still love.”


	4. A Wrinkle in Time

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A flashback to their first night is a prelude to the present where a reunion of sorts is taking place between Tom and Carmen.

>   _If you're lost, you can look and you will find me  
> _ _Time after time  
> _ Cyndi Lauper, “Time After Time”

* * *

####  **January 2015**

Though the taste of her still lingered on his tongue, Tom was ready to eat by the time the porter arrived with their steaks. The plate bearing his ribeye in front of him, he sat waiting in his seat after tipping the porter handsomely for his efforts. He looked across the room.

“Hey,” said Tom, shaking his napkin open before laying it in his lap. “Food’s here.”

Carmen had been sitting in the window seat so she could watch the sun dip slowly below the horizon. Curled up, with her forehead pressed to the glass, she took a breath before turning around to look at him. She didn’t pinch herself, but she still found it hard to believe that Tom Hiddleston was just sitting there, waiting for her to join him.

Tom gestured at her own plate, and she shuffled across the suite to join him.

In the five hours since they had met, they had fought, gotten thrown out of a university library, had sex in a limousine, fought again, had sex again. All of this happened before the car made its way from the university campus on the south side of Chicago to Tom’s hotel in the Gold Coast neighborhood on the near north side.

Once he had checked in, they resumed their maneuvers. A hand job for him in the shower, followed by cunnilingus for her while she lay in bed and tried not to moan too loudly as she called room service.

And now it was time to eat.

Tom cut his steak with precise strokes, chewing each morsel exactly five times before swallowing. He took a sip of water after every three bites, following it with a swig of whiskey. In contrast, Carmen made a mess of her plate. She spilled bread crumbs as she pulled apart a demi loaf of sourdough bread, dragging chunks of it through the juices of her meat. A haphazard pile of fries, culled from the order they had gotten to share, sat on the edge of her plate. She wiped her bottom lip with her thumb after every sip of pinot noir.

For someone who looked so well-groomed and appropriate at their first encounter, dishevelment suited Carmen rather well. Her hair was freshly washed, but she hadn’t bothered to comb it. Her bathrobe so engulfed her that it slipped with every movement, the shawl collar slipping off to expose Carmen’s bare right shoulder whenever she helped herself to another handful of fries.

It was that shoulder that distracted Tom as he tried to focus on his meal. He wasn’t shy, and this wasn’t the first time he had engaged in casual sex with a stranger. It was something in the way she occupied this space. Sure, it was his room, but as soon as she followed him in, Tom sensed somehow that he was on her turf. Not unlike the university library where they had met under the great glass dome. But this suite with its plush carpeting and the big soft bed was different. He was immediately comfortable. Tom felt at home.

“How’s your steak?” Carmen sat back in her chair. “Mine’s pretty good.”

“Delicious,” replied Tom. “The chips?”

“The fries are delicious.” She plucked one off her plate and popped it in her mouth. “You better hurry before I eat them all.”

“Thanks for the warning,” Tom said drily.

“Is this usual?” Carmen’s expression was unreadable to Tom when he looked up from his glass of whiskey.

“Is what usual?”

“This.” Carmen looked down at her plate. “Pick a fight with some hapless girl…”

Tom’s cheeks flushed. “It wasn’t me who picked the fight…”

“… get her all hot and bothered…”

“You got all hot and bothered?” Tom repressed a smirk.

“Well, _you_ certainly did,” retorted Carmen. “A few digs at Cambridge, spit out some Shakespeare, and you were good to go.”

“It wasn’t the insults, futile though they were.”

“Futile?!” Carmen looked indignant. “Really?”

Tom shrugged.

“Fine.” She narrowed her eyes. “So what was it then?” She picked up her glass, swirling it so the wine splashed about inside.

“What was what?”

“That got you all hot and bothered.” Carmen lifted the glass to her lips and swallowed more wine. A few drops escaped as she replaced the glass, some staining her robe and a few landing just at the base of her throat.

“Oh, erm, you have…” Tom tapped his chest. “Wine. You spilled..”

“Oh?” Carmen brushed her fingers against her neck. “Did I get it?”

Tom shook his head. “May I?” When she nodded, Tom reached for her, napkin in one hand, with every intention of blotting it.

One he removed the drop, they’d finish dinner. He would avert his eyes while she got dressed. A few pleasantries, he’d get her number, then Tom would send her away (in his car, of course). He would have a drink, then go to bed alone. That was the usual.

But then the other hand, the one that was empty, touched that bare shoulder. Stayed in place while Tom slipped out of his chair, crouched at her side, then applied his lips to the very spot where the offending wine lingered on her skin. He dropped the napkin when he felt her hands alight on his own shoulders. Tom looked up in time for her to kiss him.

“Answer my question,” Carmen asked, her lips still pressed to his. “Tell me.”

“You filled out that jumper quite nicely,” Tom muttered into her soft cheek.

“Is that all?” She scoffed.

“No. Not everything.” Tom looked into her eyes, taking her hands in his.

She followed him back to bed. They nearly got lost in the bedclothes, wrinkled as they were after an afternoon of lovemaking. Carmen watched Tom as he slowly undid the belt of her robe, her breath hitching as his hand came to rest on her belly. He nuzzled the base of her throat, occasionally kissing her neck as he took his right hand hand and slid it between her legs. When she parted them, he began to circle her clit with his thumb, using another finger to trace her slit. Just as he moved, intending to kiss her again, Carmen began to murmur between gasps of pleasure, saying words he didn’t understand.

“What was that?” Tom’s voice was all sweetness, even as his thumb moved faster and his finger inside of her sex was now two.

Her eyes fluttered just as her lips curled up. “I was… ooh! Oh god. Yes. Huh…”

Tom kissed the corner of her mouth. “Hmm?”

“I was just…” Carmen turned her head to his slightly. “Thinking of before. When we were, when we were fighting.”

“Oh?” Tom pressed his forehead to hers.

“All the Shakespearean insults. Best I could do was ‘O teach me how I should forget to think.’”

“Did you think of something else?”

Carmen bit her lip, whimpering when she felt Tom’s hard cock pressed to her thigh. But still his hand was teasing her, touching her. He was determined to play.

“Or did you want to ask me something?” Tom smiled when he saw the flush of pink on her chest, and how hard her nipples were.

Dizzy as she was, she focused on his face, taking in his wide blue eyes that were so bright in the dim light of the bedroom. She arched her back, then spoke:

_“Graze on my lips, and if those hills be dry  
Stray lower, where the pleasant fountains lie.” _

Tom’s eyes grew dark, the pupils blown so wide that they were almost as dark as her own. Rolling onto his back, he pulled Carmen on top of him.

“Venus and Adonis,” Tom panted. “Beautiful words from a beautiful girl.”

Carmen shifted, moving her body in response to Tom’s when he rolled his hips. She cried out, for the brush of his cock against her clit was almost too much to take. “Oh god… oh!”

He filled her slowly, their breaths becoming synchronized then before long they were still. When he felt her tighten around him, Tom began to thrust. Shallow strokes soon became deeper once she began to roll her hips to meet him. There was no poetry, no words to interrupt the sound of skin against skin, the inelegant grunts and groans made from the labor of lovemaking.

All of it was music to his ears. It had been a feast for the senses, the whole day, from start to finish. An ugly grey sky, snow stained black by car exhaust, and stark blue light refracted through glass. The din of people talking and moving around him. A flash from a pair of dark brown eyes. Glossy black hair, pink lips and olive flesh that was so warm and soft.

Tom relished the weight of Carmen’s body on his. She was small and round, and he was tall and strong. But they felt right. When his fingertips lightly touched her skin, he was rewarded with a soft laugh or a delicious shiver.

And then all at once Tom began to lose control, pumping harder and faster from below. Carmen’s reply was to tighten with every withdrawal, her body’s way of punishing him for the loss of pleasure. But when he thrust into her again, she gave a little sob of relief for his return.

“Oh shit…” she moaned. “Yes, oh yes, faster. Faster. Fuck! Ah!” Carmen collapsed, biting Tom’s shoulder. It was the only thing she could do to center herself as she came, her climax hard and intense. All at once she stilled, but then her body moved involuntarily. Aftershocks that greeted his own orgasm, Tom taking huge gulps of air as he came deep inside her.

This was not how it usually went. This was not how it was supposed to be.

She was supposed to be a model, maybe an actress, that he would have met at the gym or Starbucks or even an industry event. She’d be one of several girls vying for his attention, the one who stood out because she had the coke or the nicest looking tits. Someone whose panties would drop as soon as they heard him recite a few lines or, even better, listen sympathetically as they complained about a boyfriend or fiance with a wandering eye. A quick fuck, followed by a forbidden cigarette, and then…

“Tom?”

“Yeah?” Tom looked down to find Carmen’s face pressed against his chest. “Are you alright?”

She nodded. “You?”

“Yes. Carmen?”

“Yes?”

“Say that again.”

“Say what again?”

“My name.”

She lifted her head. “Tom.” She scooted up and kissed him. “Tom.”

“Thank you,” said Tom gratefully.

“Why did you want me to say your name?”

“Because it occurred to me that you hadn’t said it before.”

“Oh.” Carmen peered at him. “Is that very important to you?’

“No, but…” Tom rubbed his thumb on her cheek. “It sounded nice.”

“Okay,” she replied. “I’m going to the bathroom, then…” Carmen looked uncertain.

“You’re going to come back to bed while I use the bathroom. And when I get back, we’re going to rest.” Tom laughed as he stifled a yawn.

Carmen nodded. “We can order dessert, too.” She popped up and dashed to the bathroom.

When she came back, Tom took his turn. He looked at himself in the mirror as he washed his hands. There were dark circles under his eyes and his hair had dried strangely, so it fell awkwardly across his forehead. But his cheeks were rosy, and his eyes were bright.

Carmen was drifting off when he crawled back into bed. Flat on her back, her hands were folded just over her stomach. Tom lay on his side, watching her eyelids flutter and listening to the soft _whoosh_ of her breathing. He curled up, an arm thrown protectively over her, and soon enough was fast asleep.

* * *

**August 2016**

_“The Tom I still love.”_

This couldn’t have been a dream.

Tom had no explanation for how he came to find himself in a bedroom in a London flat he had never seen before and not alone in an overly cool hotel room on the other side of the world. But there he sat on the edge of an unfamiliar bed with an all too familiar person in his arms. He closed his eyes, sighing when he felt the weight of her forehead pressed to his.

 _“Water, water, everywhere, nor any drop to drink.”_ His skin was clammy but his mouth was dry. It hardly mattered. For there she was, wiggling pleasantly in his lap as she whispered in his ear.

“This doesn’t mean I forgive you, you know.” She kissed his jaw. “But I meant what I said. I still love you, you dope. Not that you deserve it.” Carmen sat back and looked at his face. “But it was never about deserving, was it?” She shook her head. “It’s more like, I understand why you did it. The stakes and all that. Moves to be made. Cut me off, spare me so I didn’t have to be part of it. And you know…”

“I know,” Tom said quietly. “I know you hated it.”

“But I could never hate you,” replied Carmen.

“You hated me before.” Tom tried to avoid her gaze. “At first.”

“No. Not really.” She nuzzled his cheek. “But didn’t you hate me?”

Tom looked stricken for a moment. “No. Never.” He hugged her tight. “I could never hate you.’

“Well, there you go.” Carmen smiled as her eyes became wet with tears. “That makes us even.”

Before Tom could contend that they could never be even, for he would never be her equal, Carmen pressed her lips to his. Laughing as she did, taking his breath away before opening her mouth and teasing his tongue with her own.

This couldn’t have been a dream, he thought once more. If it were a dream, how could he explain being able to taste the whiskey on her tongue? Weren’t those her hands running down his back, then tugging at the hem of his shirt?

First his shirt, then her dress. His trousers and socks, then her bra. No longer but sitting but lying side by side, Tom felt a different heat as they continued to kiss and touch each other. He bent his head so he could take one of her nipples between his lips and suck gently. Carmen gasped but said nothing. When his hands trailed down over her belly then down to her hips so he could remove her knickers, she squirmed.

“No… no, not yet.” Her voice was dreamy. “I have to taste you, love.”

Before he could protest, Carmen tugged on his hair. He chuckled, then crawled up to join her, working off his boxers as he did. She pressed a kiss to his lips, then another to the crook of his neck, and a cluster of small ones along his collarbone.

“It’s the freckles I missed the most,” Carmen said with a sleepy grin, leaving a trail of wet kisses across his abdomen. A playful bite on one hip and then she was lying between his legs, stroking the soft skin of his inner thighs.

It was a beautiful sort of torture, watching her as she touched him everywhere except the very hard, insistent part of his anatomy that was so eager for her attention. The appearance of a bead of pre-cum caught her eye, and Carmen licked her lips.

She moved forward, taking Tom in hand as she kissed the head of his cock. First gently, then her lips parted so she could swirl her tongue around the tip. She licked slowly, her eyes never leaving his face for as long as he could keep his head up. But it had been so long, so when she flicked her tongue against the underside, Tom groaned then let his head fall back.

She took her lips away, only for a moment to quickly spit into her palm. A moment, and then he felt her tongue trace the veins of his cock. Carmen’s mouth returned to the head, gently sucking between feather light swipes from her warm, wet tongue. Her hand moved to his shaft, pumping as she sucked harder then faster.

Tom was already feeling dizzy but he managed to lift his head for another look. Just for a moment, and then all at once he was overwhelmed. The look in her dark eyes when their gazes met, followed by the obscene beauty of her lips and tongue as they brought him pleasure. His hips rocked when she strained to swallow more of him before she had finished relaxing her jaw. Carmen released him, her lips making a popping sound.

“Oooh,” she murmured. “Dirty fucker.” She gave a small laugh, then swallowed him again. And now she wasn’t stopping. Still slow, almost careful, her mouth and hand acted as one in the act of pleasing him. Enveloped as he was, Tom fell back onto the bed in surrender. He felt like he was melting. The air was heavy still, humid and scented with her perfume. It was the weight he remembered, an intensity that was possible only with her.

Her moans seemed to vibrate through him, easing the tension that was his body’s precursor to orgasm. Carmen sucked harder, stroked faster. She was relentless. Tom’s back arched right off the bed, but still her mouth and her hand remained on him even as he came, spilling into her mouth. She slipped a hand between her own legs, rubbing her clit and taking delight in the little shocks that resulted.

Tom sighed a little when she released him, and he felt the air cool against his cock. When Carmen crawled up to join him, he tenderly rubbed her lips with his own thumb before kissing her sweetly. She tried to pull away when he deepened the kiss, but he was insistent.

“I’m sorry,” he whispered. “I didn’t warn you.”

“S’okay,” Carmen replied. “I’m used to it.”

“Minx!” Tom pulled her in close. “I love you.”

“I know.”

“How long do we have?” Tom bit his lip.

“How long do we have until what?”

“Until I have to wake up.”

“Oh Tom…”

“I don’t want to leave you,” Tom said.

“But you have work, love.” Carmen looked up at him. “They’re expecting you.”

Tom nodded. “I don’t know if they like me so much right now. All the attention…”

“Give it time, Tom. Just do your best.” She smiled ruefully. “They’ll come around.”

“Thank you, Car. You always know what to say.”

“Of course I do.” Carmen laughed. “And to answer your other question, yes, it is.”

“My other... ? Right.” Tom hugged her tighter. “A dream. Like last night. All the nights before.”

“With one key difference,” admitted Carmen. “This isn’t just you dreaming anymore.”

“You too?” When she nodded, Tom grinned. “We’re having the same dream? At the same time?”

“Give or take a few hours. You are still ahead. We’re apart, separated by nine hours, and about 10,000 miles.”

“But not forever,” said Tom.

“No, I guess not.” Carmen yawned. “November will be here soon enough.”

“Sure, that’s when the shoot ends. But.” Tom looked into her eyes. “But in September…”

“Tom.” Carmen looked stern. “Don’t promise anything…”

“Button…”

“I haven’t forgiven you,” said Carmen quietly. “Not yet, anyway.”

“I know.” Tom kissed her temple. “But you do still love me.”

“Doesn’t mean I like you,” Carmen admonished him, but relented when she saw him cringe. “Sorry.”

“That doesn’t make sense, you know.” Tom arched an eyebrow at her. “You love me but you don’t like me. You don’t forgive me, but we still…” His cheeks colored a little.

“Oh! Well. About that.” Carmen’s brow furrowed in thought. “Think of that as a gesture of goodwill.”

“Goodwill? You feel sorry for me? I’m hurt, Carmen,” said Tom with mock seriousness.

“Good lord, Hiddleston. Fine. It was more like, you were sick. Injured.” Carmen stifled a giggle.

“Really? How do you mean? I feel fine now.”

“Oh, Tom. I know you only went to Cambridge, but it’s elementary. Basic first aid.” Carmen caressed his cheek. “You’re out in the world, and all of a sudden, you get bitten by a snake! A poisonous snake whose venom will kill you unless…”

“Unless you’re with somebody who saves you…” Tom started to laugh as he understood, pulling her closer into him as he did.

Carmen kissed him. “Who saves you the only way they can.” She smiled up at him. “They save you by applying their mouth to your body, right upon the wound, and sucking the poison out as hard and fast as they can.”


End file.
